


lex talionis

by Keibey



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Halloween, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 02:52:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5113451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keibey/pseuds/Keibey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slaine always knew when Inaho was on land, no matter the length of time that the brunet spent on his ship at sea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lex talionis

**Author's Note:**

> Belated birthday gift to Nozu! (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Also Halloween themed because who doesn't like vampires am I right. Warning for blood and Not Porn that reads like porn. ┐(´∇｀)┌

The door opened and Slaine was greeted with the muzzle of a pistol right in his face. Inaho tipped his head to the side, the brown eyes flicking quickly up and down his frame. Slaine knew he looked miserable, completely drenched from head to toe and yet throat parched like he hadn’t seen water for weeks. Inaho uncocked the gun and lowered it, breath just short of a sigh when the brunet stepped aside to let him in. 

Slaine stood there awkwardly as Inaho left the pistol on the table, throwing the coat over the back of the lone chair; was the brunet about to go out? There was little else in the room, a bed against one wall and a stove – of course – in the corner. His wandering gaze ended back at Inaho seated on the chair, and the brunet shrugged. Slaine shucked off his dripping coat and cravat, leaving them unceremoniously on the ground. He moved forward with cautious, sheepish steps, knowing that if Inaho was any less stoic there would be a raised eyebrow. He stopped beside the chair as the brunet causally rolled back the left sleeve, watching the knife move closer and closer to skin, and bit his lip in familiar unease. 

Slaine made the decision in a second, grabbing the blade with a too quick hand – his grip on humanity was slipping fast. Inaho gave him a questioning look, and Slaine had to swallow before he could find his voice. “Don’t be so barbaric.” 

“I hope you’re aware of the irony,” Inaho stated, deadpan. 

“I am,” he grumbled, putting down the knife and wincing at how slowly the wound was closing. He reached out – _slower, slower_ – and gently took the brunet’s wrist with his right hand, pushing back the sleeve and holding the elbow lightly with his other. It was immediately obvious that it’d never work with him standing, and he kneeled in front of chair. 

Inaho never made him beg, but he so readily got on his knees anyway. 

Slaine turned the arm in his hold gingerly. The moment his lips touched the delicate skin of the inner wrist, his instincts flared up, the need to bite down so strong he pulled back sharply, breathing deeply to clear his head and only succeeding in filling his lungs with a sweet heady scent. He shot an uncertain look up at Inaho, but the brunet’s intent gaze only made it worse. Slaine slowly brought his mouth to the vulnerable skin again, more ready for the burning urge this time as he parted his lips carefully. He eased his teeth in quickly and pushed away the urge to tear, make the blood pour out with each pump of the heart, rabbit fast. He tried to ignore the way Inaho’s breath caught as he pulled his fangs out; it had to be less pain than a knife. 

Then the first drops of blood hit his tongue, and he couldn’t think at all. 

It was hot and sweet, so _sweet_ , soothing his parched throat. Slaine let out a low groan. Fingers threaded into his hair, pushed them out of his face, tangled into the mess. He closed his eyes and suppressed a shudder, dimly aware he had to be gentle – _gentle_ – through the haze. 

A trickle escaped the corner of his mouth and ran down along the unmarked skin, and he moved to lap it up eagerly. The slightly salty taste mixed with the tang of blood made an addicting mix, and he slowed down to savour it, dragging his tongue along the rivulets. He shifted the arm to keep the beading blood from dripping onto the floor, directed it toward the crook of the elbow. 

“Slaine.” The breathy whisper barely registered over the thumping beat of his pulse in his ears, but he hummed absently. The fingers in his hair tightened when he sucked on the patch of pale skin inside the elbow just to watch the blood flush prettily under, the nails scraped lightly against his scalp as he reverently licked the blood trickling down his canvas. “Slaine.” He made a possessive noise deep in his throat when Inaho tried to pull the arm away, but he cracked open his eyes. 

Slaine took in the uncharacteristic slash of red under the brown eyes, the pupils blown wide, the quick breaths that matched the racing heartbeat under his fingers, and it was a different kind of hunger that made his throat dry and his stomach coil. Reality crashed down onto him the same time realization did, and Slaine blushed, only then aware that his face was already flushed. He opened his mouth to say something, but his mind was blank apart from the look in the brown eyes. 

Inaho yanked him up by the front of his shirt, forcing Slaine to let go of the elbow and brace himself against the brunet’s knee. He stared wide-eyed into the brunet’s face, the moment seeming to stretch forever before Inaho closed the distance. 

Slaine made a noise of surprise that Inaho quickly swallowed, hand shifting in his hair and making him shudder as it rested on the back of his neck, urging him closer. The lips were hot and demanding, such a contrast to the normal calm confidence and absolute composure that his own control quickly buckled, mouth pliant and letting Inaho’s tongue in without resistance. 

He made a muffled gasp at the way Inaho held his chin and tipped his face up, claimed his mouth with slick and knowing slides of the tongue. Brown eyes dark with desire watched Slaine as his world became more fuzzy around the edges, body beginning to tingle. The brunet’s name caught in his throat as an unintelligible moan, his lips moving to form the name, and Inaho rewarded him by capturing his lower lip, biting just rough enough for a sliver of pain to work into the pleasure that shot down his spine.

Inaho shifted and trailed a path of nips along his jaw. “Did my blood taste good?” The quiet voice hit the shell of his ear, and the hot breath sent tingles through his body. Slaine nodded dumbly, gasped obediently when the tongue traced his ear. “Then I’ll have you return the favour.” 

“I can’t–” Slaine cut himself off with soundless whine, shivering at the predatory way Inaho was sucking at his neck.

“I never said I wanted your blood,” Inaho said, brown eyes still dark and hungry, the hand slipping from the nape of his neck to leave a hot trail between his skin and the damp shirt. It was impossible to misinterpret the invitation, but also impossible to resist.

Slaine nodded once, leaned forward and surrendered himself.


End file.
